16/30: Hour Hand Stuck

A clerkship at a faceless company.
Sitting in the long grey two p.m.

A bus you miss for lack of sprinting.
Left waiting in the long grey two p.m.

A knuckle rash, an elbow sting.
Aching in the long grey two p.m.

Caffiene drops out, demands more caffeine.
To jolt you through the long grey two p.m.

A stack of tasks, collated and stamped.
Filing through the long grey two p.m.

The three p.m. and one p.m. are ghosts.
Grinning at the long grey two p.m.

A bus you catch that jolts and starts.
Staying in the long grey two p.m.

A sleep that waits like cats on roofs.
Waking through the long grey two p.m.

A stapler that breaks with three files left.
Mocks you in the long grey two p.m.

Neighbor dogs bark every time.
Unknown in the long grey two p.m.

Neighbor cats go run and yowl.
Hiding in the long grey two p.m.

A clerkship with transparency.
Promised by the long grey two p.m.

Processed cheese and cardboard bread
Demand repeats in the long grey two p.m.

A grind of tasks, and guts, and dust.
Crunched out of the long grey two p.m.

Til five p.m. til five p.m. til five p.m.
Whispered in the long grey two p.m.

3/30: Everything Hurts For Good Work

Swing that hammer. Climb that tree. Get to that clubhouse. Break that back and selfie the bandages. So many tongues, so few hands. Clouds part to reveal more, darker clouds. A rain that insists on waiting while the garden dries.

There are so many logs and not enough arms to lift. Tie those shoes, laces for tennis, applied to loose boots in the mud.  Tether your throat to the dust in the air, the dust in the air becomes the mud in your shoes. As dilligence goes, this wasn’t due.

These lines even, dashed off like they are, wouldn’t meet criteria. Those flimsy walls you’re throwing up, that half-cooked patty, served up, that warm lager. So many starving, cold people, so many people starving cold people, a listening party for the full collapse. Fix the hair. Fix the nails. Fix the shoes.

Swing that hammer. Tie that knot. Get up that last flight of stairs. Wear out those knees and wonder who, what you have to show.